Making Amends
by Phantom-Cosplayer
Summary: After exchanging his kindness for her harsh words, Katie hopes to run into Dean Winchester again so she can make up for everything she's said. However, the fates seem to have a different idea about how their reuniting should go and Katie finds herself knocked for six and the only one to come to her aid is him.
1. Chapter 1

**Something I thought of while day dreaming on a road trip. I'm setting this during the first season onward as the earlier seasons are the ones I know the best and feel most comfortable with.**

* * *

"So, uh, I heard you lost your mom," I looked up at the awkward teenage boy in the doorway.

"Yeah, what's it to ya?" I glared through half cried tears.

"Well, uhh, I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry. I know what it feels like and you're not alone," He replied coming into the room and sitting down next to me as I took another swig of the whiskey I'd stolen.

"Oh great, we can form a club," I said bitterly, high pitched and almost in a sob. "Tell me, did you really think coming in hear with you 'I'm here and I've been through the same things' speech was gonna change anything? You think it was mysteriously going to all go away, we'd hug and everything would be magically better? Huh!?"

I stood up and marched over to the door, taking another swig and looking back at the baffled and hurt looking boy, leaning up against the wall of Bobby's study.

"You might have lost your mom, but you know _nothing_ of how I feel," I growled, walking out of the room without sparring him a second thought.

Eventually I felt bad about what I'd said to Dean and how I'd yelled at him when he'd only meant well. I wondered how my biting his head had effected him. Had he never tried to help anyone again or had it rolled off him like water on a duck's back. Just how badly had I hurt him? I often asked myself this, when I was having a self pity party and drinking after a long day's work. I often asked the fates to bring the two of us together again so I could make it up to him, apologise for how rude I'd been and all the grief I'd unfairly taken out on him.

However, I didn't mean like this.

* * *

"Alex, you there?" I radioed my partner, who would be sitting outside the building in the parking lot, keeping an eye out on and holding the book open in his lap, ready to look up the next step if needed.

"As always, what do you need now?" He grumbled, not doing much to counter the popular belief that teenagers were moody, sullen creatures of the night.

"I need you to call Pastor Jim and find out who the nearest hunter is," I responded, looking down at the snapped bone protruding from my leg.

"Katie, if you need help I'm write outside, I'm sure I could hel.."

"NO!" I cried out, cutting him off. "Just stay in the car, call pastor Jim."

"Katie.." He started.

" _Alex.."_ I replied, warning him not to argue with me right now. "Just do it."

"Right," He sighed, cutting off the transmitter. I knew he was anxious to get out there and go hunting, just like our parents, our mother who he could barely remember these days and everyone we grew up around. But, as his sole guardian, I needed to make sure he stayed safe and actually made it to adulthood.

A few more minutes that felt like hours came to past and the walkie-talkie crackled to life again. I let out a breath of relief and thanked my lucky stars, it wouldn't be long now.

"Katie, Pastor Jim says he'll send someone out. He says they're not far away. Are you sure you don't want me to come in there?" Alex asked, I could hear the worry in his voice, knowing he only wanted to help.

"Yeah, I'm sure. I'll be okay, plus I need you out there so when the other hunter gets here you can tell them what we're up against," I explained, looking over my hap-hazardously crafted salt ring. I clutched my gun in my shaking hands, trying to keep my breaths level.

"Okay, if you're sure," he agreed, finally, not sounding fully convinced.

"I'm sure," came my breathy response.

* * *

"Minnesota?" I asked, mentally calculating how quickly I could get to where he was asking me to go. "I'm on a job about a half hour away, maybe 15 minutes."

"Yeah sounded like a real emergency, stay safe and try to get there as quick as you can. The boy, Alex will fill you in when you get there," Pastor Jim explained, before rattling off the location one city over.

"Alright, I'll be there, gotta go Jim," I cut off the phone and dropped the lit match into the freshly dug up grave below me. The bones lit up in yellow flames and I grabbed the bag of salt and lighter fluid, heading back to the impala as quickly as possible. I jumped in the car, throwing the bag in the backseat and sped off. If Jim was calling, it was important.

"A bowling alley," I said to myself as I stood in the parking lot looking at the blue Chevrolet Chevelle with a boy who didn't look much older than 14 looking out the passenger side window at me.

"My sister Katie's inside. We thought it was just a poltergeist but whatever it is she's having trouble in there and she won't let me come in," the teen explained through the window with a leather-bound notebook in his lap and a torch in his hand.

"It's probably best you stay out here kiddo," I started. "I'll go in there and sort this out. You just stay here and man the radio,"

"That's what Katie said," He responded with a frown.

"It's good advise," I responded, going over to the impala to get my kit. I grabbed the duffle bag out of the backseat and put more lighter fluid, salt, and iron rounds into the bag. I grabbed the shotgun and more shells and got ready to move out.

* * *

It was nearly four in the morning when, over the radio, I heard my little brother Alex say that someone was here to help. I felt the morning chill more so, even though the witching hour was supposed to have passed. I told Alex, I made sure he was going to stay in the car and not come into the building before I agreed to let the hunter he was briefing inside. I heard the door crack as someone kicked it in and thundering footsteps come my way. I'd originally picked the lock on the door but when I'd gotten trapped in here, the "spirit" had locked it again. I didn't think much of it, I knew I could unlock it again once I killed the bastard. Although that proved more difficult than I'd once thought.

"Katie, you here?" I heard a deep, gruff sounding voice call out in the darkness of the bowling alley.

"Yeah, over here," I called, waving from beside the ball return of one of the lanes.

"Oh shit," He commented, staring at my leg.

"Get inside the salt circle, now," I ordered.

"Not much of a circle," He joked and stepped over the line, kneeling beside me. "Okay, let's get this leg looked at while you tell me what you know."

"We thought it was a poltergeist, we were wrong. It's still a spirit of some kind, but it's a lot stronger and suddenly a lot more vengeful. First it was just messing with people, making strange noises, moving objects, the usual, ahh," I pushed air out from between my teeth as he tried to pull my leg out straighter.

"Sorry," he apologised. He had taken the axe I'd had in my bag for breaking down the wall and removed the head. "You know, a sledgehammer would have been more useful," he commented.

"If I had one, don't you think I'd be using it right now?" I replied, trying to keep a lid on my temper. "Someone died here a month back and the place closed for renovations right after. It was the only recorded death here besides one other decades ago. We thought it was him but after I dug him up and burned the corpse and the ghost was still around, we found out about someone else. The manager was murdered right after the place closed for renovations and the staff have been terrorised, starting about a week ago. We found out about another death and he was buried in the walls," I gave the whole story.

"So the poltergeist turns to a vengeful spirit and gets a little cranky when you try to gank him," he replied, showing he was listening.

"Exactly, AHH!" I cried out as he straightened out my leg fully and tied the makeshift splint onto it.

"Sorry," he apologised again. "Where's the body?"

"In the wall behind the trophy cabinet, I was thrown here after I found the body, leg broke mid air. The landing didn't help," I breathed heavily, feeling much more tired, adrenalin wearing off.

"Come on," he gently slapped my face a few times, "stay awake."

"Sorry," I breathed.

"Alright, I'm going to go take care of this sucker," he replied, firing a shot off at the entity forming beside us. "Then we're going to get you out of here."

I nodded and he let me go, grabbing his duffle and cocking his shotgun, ready for the next appearance. I spotted it reforming before he did and fired an iron round that whizzed past the hunter. He turned back, briefly, to look at me before heading on to the trophy case. I heard several more shots after he'd left me there and I looked up to the figure growing more powerful and almost larger. I grabbed the ball return and pushed upward with my arms. I let out a cry and dragged myself from the ground, using it then, to prop me up.

I looked at the spirit and fired off rounds into it. It howled and came right at me like lightning. It was as if a speeding car was traveling towards me and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I let off more rounds and the salt ring caught it, preventing the spirit from reaching me. I fired off a few more iron rounds and it disappeared and reformed after each one.

I saw behind it, that the hunter had thrown a lighter behind the trophy case and the whole area caught fire. The ghost in front of me howled and screamed, charging at me one more time before vanishing forever. I dropped my gun to my side and clicked the safety back on, almost slid down the ball return.

"Katie, you alright?" The hunter called and jogged over to me.

"Yeah, I'm good. Let's get out of here," I replied and he packed up our things into the duffle bags. I slung around his shoulder and he helped me limp over to the door.

The morning sun had started to rise and I looked out to the car where my baby brother was drooling on the windowsill, asleep. I laughed and when the hunter turned to me I pointed.

"Poor kid's all tuckered out," I said, breathing heavily, walking over to the car rather taking.

"Yeah he seemed pretty worried about you before I went in there," The hunter agreed.

"Hey, you look really familiar," I said staring at his chiselled face.

"Sweetheart, that's my line," he responded, shaking his head.

"No, I mean it," I replied. "Do you know Bobby Singer?"

"Do I? He basically raised me," He responded, leaning me up against his car while he got the door open.

"There were these brothers there one time my brother and I were there. My dad dropped us off there while he was on a job just after our mom died.." I explained.

"Ah, I never knew your name," He replied.

"You know, I always hoped to run into you again, to apologise. I didn't quite mean like this," I said as he helped me into the backseat, propping my leg up gently.

"You get blood on my car, you're cleaning it up, broken leg or not," he said as he closed the door, changing the subject. He opened the trunk and put his duffle inside and opened the door to the backseat again. "You got your keys?" he asked and I nodded.

"I'm sorry," I said to him and he shook his head at me.

"You think you can hang out a little longer while I move your car from the scene? I imagine your brother can't drive," he asked.

"Yeah, he's fourteen, he can't drive," I agreed. "We're staying at the motel two blocks away. Listen, it was unfair of me to take out my feelings on you, grieving or not. I'm sorry.."

"Dean," he introduced. "I'm okay, it's been a long, long time."

"It doesn't matter, I shouldn't have done it and I wanna make it up to you," I replied.

"Tell you what, when that leg's healed, you can help me out on a hunt to make it up to me. You kind of owe me after last night," He grinned.

"Done," I agreed, smiling as he closed the door and walked over to my car, getting in and driving away.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean wondered if he should have called after he'd dropped her at the hospital. He wondered if he should have checked up on her or kept in contact, but that wasn't exactly his style. He was never really one for long distance friends, or friends for that matter.

Something in him though, something was calling to him. He always felt he should see her again or call her again, the feeling sneaking up on him during a particularly difficult hunt, sometimes in the dead of night when it was just him and his thoughts. Sometimes when he was in a bar and picking up some waitress or hustling some pool didn't tickle his fancy that night.

He didn't know if it was instant attraction that had caused it of if he was simply yearning for a friend and she had presented herself as the perfect candidate. She was a hunter herself and therefor knew his day job, she was the older sibling so she had that in common with him and there was just something about her. Something completely un natural that called out to him.

 _"Hello?"_ She answered after just a few rings.

"Katie, it's Dean," He started.

* * *

"Hey," I said, walking into the diner where Dean was sitting at the counter, drinking coffee.

"Hey," he responded in his gruff voice. "Been a long time."

"Yeah it's been a while," I replied. "What happened? Is everything alright?" I found myself asking. Perhaps he was calling in a favour after the incident he'd saved me from.

"Is your leg better?" He asked, skipping over my questions and looking down at my outstretched knee as I sat on a stool next to and facing him, heels pressed up against the footrests.

"It's been over a year, I'm fine," I replied, internally rolling my eyes.

"..Well that's good," he replied gruffly. "Listen I have a favour to call in."

"What do you need?" I asked and then glanced over at my brother who was busy stuffing his face with snacks while he studied.

"I've got a case of Wendigo, or black dog maybe, but I'm pretty sure it's a Wendigo and I need some extra hands on taking this thing down," Dean answered. "The kids of the family that owns the land and some of their friends went up there a while ago and came back all stirred up, talking about what they'd seen. Some hikers went missing up there too. It's been happening over decades from what I can tell with the pattern I've strung together. But with my dad out of town doing his own job I need some extra hands."

"Can I see what you've got so far?" I asked flipping through the menu.

"What? you don't trust me?" He laughed.

"You know what I mean," I shook my head. "Two sets of eyes are better than one."

"I'll meet you back at the motel later," he said and dropped some bills down on the counter. I walked back over to my brother and told him we'd go by a dvd rental and get some stuff for him to do while I was gone.

* * *

"How good are you at IDs?" I asked Dean over the phone as I pointed to particularly good new release movie that Alex instantly screwed his face up at and moved along to the next isle.

"There's nobody better," Dean replied smugly and I rolled my eyes.

"Good," I returned. "We should go talk to these kids. Find out exactly what they saw."

* * *

"House keeping!~" I called jokingly through the door as I barged into the motel room. I laughed as I met Dean's panicked expression while he stood over a bag of guns he was frantically trying to close.

"Damn it, Katie," he grumbled, sitting back down at the table.

"Oh hush you, just be thankful I got everything." I grinned, pulling a dress suit out of a garment back and laying it out on the bed. Alex came in the door, grumbling and closing it behind him before he made his way over to the table and sat down in a chair, slouching.

"Hey Alex," Dean grinned cheerily. Alex responded with a grunt before going through his bag and searching for more food. Thankfully, Dean shrugged off his attitude and went back to his notebooks.

"So," I asked sitting down. "You sure it's a wendigo?"

"Either that or a black dog, can't think of much else it could be. There are a few things that don't quite add up but I've got nothing, it's gotta be one of the two."

"Did you make up the fake badges?" I asked, uncrossing my legs and going back over to Dean's spare bed. I untucked my plaid shirt and started undoing the buttons, switching it out for a short sleeved, white, button down blouse. I noticed out of the corner of my eye, I'd caught the attention of Dean but shook it off. It was hardly surprising, and I wasn't too worried considering I wasn't stripping completely.

I bent down to grab my dress skirt and I also noticed my brother Alex glaring in the direction of where I last clocked Dean. I smiled and shook my head before lifting my unzipped skirt up over my head and dropping it down my body once I'd put my arms through. I hated the idea of being this far out in a skirt, it was hardly practical, but if I was going to pass as an FBI agent as well as get people to trust and empathise with me I had to look the part. No 80s power suits.

"You look like a receptionist," Alex commented as I reached for my jacket.

"Thank, Lex," I muttered. "Don't skip the homework just because Dean and I will be out, alright?"

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered, stuffing a cookie in his mouth.

* * *

"Your brother got really pissy since last time I saw him," Dean commented.

"He's a teenager," I replied. "Just one too many My Chemical Romance songs I think."

"What?" Dean asked.

"Never mind, some young people's band," I brushed off.

"We're young people," he argued.

"Dean, when was the last time you listened to something from this century?" I laughed as we rolled up to the property the kids who had been camping stayed at.

"I listen to good music, it doesn't matter the century," he argued and I snorted, getting out of the car. "What?"

"Nothing, let's go interview these guys so we can go back to the motel and change out of these stupid outfits," I replied and he hummed in agreement, the outfits were stupid. "You look god by the way," I commented as we got to the door.

"Hmm?" Dean looked at me as he knocked.

"The shirt and tie look, makes your arms look nice," I responded, the door opening up just before he could say anything.

"FBI, you the Wilkers?" I asked, showing my fake badge, Dean doing the same.

"Yeah," we were eyed suspiciously. "What about it?"

"Well we've heard recently your kids had an.. unusual experience in the woods," Dean explained, pausing on the unusual.

"Didn't think the FBI investigated ghost stories," the woman replied.

"We were wondering if we could talk to your kids, and if they could point us in the direction of the other kids involved," I explained and she stepped away from the door.

"Well," she replied expectantly after a moment. "You comin' in or not?"

"We appreciate you lending us some of your time, this won't take long," I said as I stepped inside her house, losing around.

"Why you call it lendin' ain't as if I'll be gettin' it back," she replied calling up to her three boys.

"That's a fair point," I agreed. "Then thank you for giving us your time, you're probably busy."

"I am," she responded curtly and then yelled up the stairs again. "Boys," she said when the three teenagers in varying ages finally came down the stairs. "These here people are from the FBI they've come to talk to you about that ghost you saw in the woods."

"It wasn't a ghost!" The youngest yelled and received a firm look from his mother.

"Why are you looking into tales of bigfoot anyway?" His mother asked, staring us down.

"There's uh," Dean started but then paused.

"We've been tracking a killer out this way, he started up in Kansas and he's come down here. He toys with his victims for a few nights before he take them. His pattern matches your kids' account, we'd like to investigate their story, if you'd allow us to speak with them," I butted in and Dean nodded. He'd been looking at me funny since we entered the house and had trouble being his usual _charming_ self.

"Hikers've been going missing for a while now, we're wondering if they weren't quite as lucky as your boys and the other kids," Dean added in, finally regaining some composure.

"They got homework to do, don't keep them long," their mother nodded and went off to the kitchen, leaving us with the kids.

"So," I started, heading over to the couch. "Where do we begin?"

"Let's start with why you were out in the woods, give us the full story, no matter how weird," Dean said as we sat down. "Every detail is important, even if it seems crazy."

"We went camping out in the woods over spring break, we'd always done it, but this year we wanted to get a bigger group involved. Don't tell out parents but," the middle kid, Joe, started but was shoved by the oldest of three, Marcus.

"You went out there to drink, party and generally have a good time?" Dean supplied.

"We're cops, not robots," I added when we received a shocked look from the boys. "Also we're not stupid, why else would a bunch of teenagers want to spend all night in a tent in the middle of nowhere."

"It's not as if you're out there because nature soothes you," Dean added.

"Okay, we invited some girls down too, thought we'd impress them, have a good time and then come back just before school," Marcus said.

"But when we were out there the first night things got weird," Joe explained.

"No," the youngest, Cody argued. "When we got there, there was this awful smell. It was like nothin' I ever smelled before."

"It was nasty," Marcus agreed.

"It was coppery, like blood right as you get a nose bleed but it didn't quite smell as fresh. It was rotting almost, someone though it was a skunk, like maybe we'd scared it with the amount of noise we were making coming up with all our stuff," Joe explained, currently the most talkative of the three.

"We set up out tents, got all the gear out, just chillin' before any of us started anything for dinner or broke out the alcohol," Marcus said, rising his chin on his hands, elbows on his knees, thoughtful expression on his face.

"There was probably ten of us there that night, three to a tent and four in the last one. At dinner we got out the booze, fire already roaring, we'd been drinking which was why we first dismissed the figure standing just off in the trees. Just a trick in the shadows. You can't just go around assuming every shadow is an axe wielding psycho waiting to kill you," Joe told us and I nodded, noting down that the thing let off a bad smell, showed up around nightfall, possibly attracted by noise or the fire.

"It was when I looked around I noticed, there was now eleven of us around the fire but as I looked around, I couldn't really spot anyone who wasn't supposed to be there. It wasn't until I noticed an identical version of Cody sitting across the fire, all jerky and twitching like that I thought there was a problem. I wasn't thinking right, I just stood up and yelled at it, 'hey you!' I threw my beer bottle at it and it freaked out. It was jumping and twitching all the faster now and it looked at us, said in almost the same way I said it 'hey you!' but it was distorted. It was wrong, inhuman almost," Marcus said and I nodded.

"Weird," I commented, writing down that it copied the victim's appearance but wasn't exact. I noted down, jumpy and twitching. Irregular voice sounds.

"You sure this is your killer?" Marcus asked and I nodded.

"Sounds just like him," I replied, looking over my notepad.

"What happened then?" Dean asked, leaning over his knees slightly, listening intently.

"It seemed to just disappear, we were all looking, but none of us saw it go, it kind of jumped off the log it was sitting on but then it disappeared, almost howling a little, like a wounded animal. We thought that it was just imagination, what could get away that quickly, how did it just disappear?" Joe asked questions like we were supposed to know the answers. We didn't even know what it was, but after the kid's story, it certainly wasn't a wendigo. It couldn't have been, the voice copying it did was seamless, none of them mentioned a hunching figure, now much taller, faster and stronger than a human but still vaguely looking like one. Black dog? I wasn't sure.

"It came back later that night, the girls were getting all upset, refusing to go to sleep without at least a guy in each tent. Something we really didn't protest to much, turned out to be a good thing. Most us boys down here carry knives. For hunting and stuff. Wasn't for Marcus stabbing the thing, we wouldn't have got away," Cody explained and I nodded.

"What happened when you stabbed it?" I asked, turning to Marcus.

"It let out that howling noise it made. It was huge," Marcus explained only to be joined by Cody, who was probably 14, maybe 15.

"It went from looking like one of the girls this time to being a tall figure with a goats head," he said, sure of himself.

"Shut up," Marcus almost growled at his younger brother.

"A goats head?" I asked, surprised and Dean quirked a brow.

"I told you they wouldn't believe us," Joe said, shaking his head.

"Anything else unusual about his appearance?" I asked, writing down what they said.

"You, you believe us?" Joe stuttered.

"This guy's a real psycho," I replied with a nod.

"What'd you see?" Dean asked, waiting to hear anything else crazy about the kid's story.

"He just looked like a guy but he was burly, he was tall and had the head of a goat," Marcus described and we nodded.

"Anything else about this night you guys want to tell us?" I asked, moving to close up my notebook.

"Just that we high tailed it home after Marcus stabbed him and we came back the next morning in our dad's truck to clear out our stuff. Our cooler had been raided, almost like a bear had been at it, but that's crazy," Joe said.

"We'll be looking into this," I said, getting up from the sofa.

"Thank you for sharing your story with us," Dean followed me towards the door.

"We'll be in touch if we catch him," I said, pocketing the notebook.

"Oh, we'll catch him," Dean said adamantly and we headed back out to the car, letting ourselves out.

"A fucking goat's head?" I asked, once we were inside his Impala and driving back out down the driveway.

"The claw marks on the cooler though, that sounds like a wendigo, the fact it destroyed the camp," Dean said eyes on the road.

"There are so many details though, that say something else," I countered, quickly texting out what I found to Alex who usually did my research for me through our parent's old notebooks.

"What are you doing?" Dean asked, looking down at my lap where I was copying out my notes into my phone.

"Texting Lex," I replied. "He can check my notebooks while we head back and get dinner. We can take it from there once we get to the motel."

"Good plan, I didn't want to be sitting in a pile of dusty books this evening," Dean explained. "Hey why'd you wear that skirt?"

"Women in power suits look cold, kind of bitchy, you wear the right skirt and the right smile, people trust you more. Give up more information," I explained. Though I preferred pants, they sometimes came across as hostile.

"So not to show off your ass then," he replied, looking down at my exposed thighs.

"Dean it's a pencil skirt, don't act like you've never seen one before," I shook my head. "Sure it's not practical but it got the job done."

"Sure, whatever," he shook his head, turning his attention back to the road. Most of the drive back though, there was an occasional glance back at my thighs. Jesus he needed to get laid.


	3. Chapter 3

"I think you have a goatman," Alex said as we stepped in the door, bag of food under Dean's arms, sleeves rolled up and suit jacket still in the car.

"A what?" I raised an eyebrow at him, moving over to my bed to kick off my shoes and slide some jeans on, up under my skirt. I unzipped the back of the skirt and let it drop, fabric pooling at my feet. I unbuttoned my shirt, practically throwing it off my shoulders and tugging a new t-shirt over my head.

"Will you stop staring at her?" I heard Lex say to Dean and I turned around to see him glaring sharply at the older male.

"Sorry," he cleared his throat. "I was thinking."

"Not about her I hope," Lex responded, digging into the bag of food and pulling out his lasagne.

"Okay tough guy," I said, sitting at the table. "You're gonna beat Dean up if he tries anything, we get it," I smiled, trying to put some humour into the situation.

"Hey, I'd feel the same way if it was my sister," Dean said, trying to earn a better spot in Alex's view.

"So goatman?" I asked, gnawing into my steak sandwich.

* * *

Dean slammed me into the wall and kissed me roughly, holding me up by my thighs which were wrapped tightly around his waist. He ground into me as we kissed and I moaned into him, kissing him back with passion. Just one night would do, I knew I was supposed to be making it up to him after how much of a jerk I'd been but he seemed to think I'd earned this. He kissed down my neck and I groaned, rolling my hips into his and grinding against his jeans, fabric casing a tingling feeling in my legs and a very pleasant friction between them.

 _"Fuck me,"_ I moaned reaching for his belt buckle.

I shot up with a start from the place on the table I'd fallen asleep, pile of books falling out around me, papers sliding to the floor. I looked around for a moment and realised it had been a dream. A very weird dream. An annoying dream, now I was hot and flustered and stuck in a room with my sleeping brother and the man I'd just been dreaming about fucking.

"You alright?" Dean asked as I looked around, him looking up from his father's notebook, beer in one hand and perplexed look on his face.

"Weird dream," I responded, sitting back in my chair, pushing away from the table, chest feeling hot and rising as I tried to get my breath back.

"Sounded like it," he replied. "You uh, make noises in your sleep you know.."

"Oh?" I asked, playing coy. "What noises?"

"I wouldn't call it moaning.." he started and I stood up, shaking my head, heading to the fridge and grabbing a cool beer.

"You're the worst," I replied, opening the bottle with the opener on the counter.

"I'm serious," he raised his voice slightly. "You alright?"

"I'm fine," I responded, rubbing my thighs together slightly as I stood behind the counter, taking in his form. His shirt sleeves were rolled up to the elbow, him having not bothered to change when we got back. His muscles protruded from his tight shirt and his top buttons were undone, collar open and tie hanging loosely around his neck.

"You sure?" He asked. "Nothing I can help you with?"

I scowled at him and went back to drinking my beer, I couldn't tell if he was being thoughtful -unlikely- or if he'd heard a lot more than I wanted. I raised a sceptical eyebrow and him and then returned to my seat to start researching again.

"You usually say 'fuck me' in disdain?" He asked after maybe 20 minutes of silence. I froze, holding still as I looked at the paper in my hand. "What were you dreaming about, anyway?"

"How much did you hear?" I asked, not looking up from my papers.

"Just that, along with the moaning," he replied cheerily.

"Why do you ask?" I countered, unable to stop myself from raising a brow as I pretended to look at the paper in front of me.

"I'm a helpful kind of guy," he replied, toying with me. "You ever need anything, you just be sure to let me know, you know, since we're friends."

"I'm going to head out and get, uh, some more beer," I decided after pausing for a moment mid sentence. I didn't want him to know I needed air, because I didn't want him to know he had me flustered.

"You want help, getting beer?" He asked, grinning. "Beer can be heavy, you know, wouldn't want you to hurt yourself, carrying too much."

"I'm sure I'll be fine," I replied, breathing a little heavier.

"Okay," he smiled at me. "You just let me know if you change your mind."

I got up from the chair, grabbing my keys off the table and headed out the door of the motel room closing it behind me and ten resting against it, cool air of the outside hitting my hot skin.

"Fuck," I breathed.

I stood there for a moment, thighs rubbing together, feeling restless and a little anxious. Oh how easy it would be to just turn around, drag Dean outside and take care of this. Have him scratch that itch. Of course that meant dealing with all the extra crap afterwards, having to put up with it during the hunt. And it was a bad idea to get close to people in this line of work. My legs squeezed together below me and I let out a little whine, knowing I was a weak, weak woman.

"Get a hold of yourself Katie," I scolded, desperately trying to stop myself from twisting the knob beneath my grasp, going back into that room and climbing atop Dean's lap. I couldn't tell if I'd always felt this way of I just needed a good fuck. Was I desperate? It had been a long time, it wasn't easy catching tail on the fly when you're looking after your little brother all the time.

I heard the doorknob turn and the door squeak as it was pulled open behind me, almost falling back as I leant on it.

"You alright, Katie?" Dean asked, from behind me.

"Shit," I replied, spinning around, yanking him out the door and closing it behind him.

"Woah," he said as I did so, shoving him against the closed motel door and gripping his shirt tightly.

"You fucking tease," I growled through gritted teeth.

"Me?" He asked, scandalised. "You're the one wearing that tight skirt, changing in front of me, and that comment. Don't think I missed that hint when you made your little comment about the suit back at the Wilkers."

"What little comment!" I whispered furiously. "You wanna talk little comments, mister helpful?"

"Got to you, did I?" He smirked.

"You're an asshole," I replied, pulling him down to meet me, capturing his lips with my own.

"God, Katie," Dean groaned. "Your fucking brother.." he started but I growled back into the kiss.

"I know," I replied, dragging him forward with me as I walked backwards, towards the steps to get down to the parking lot in front of the motel. He pressed me up against one of the support beams holding up the motel's veranda. "Mine or yours?" I asked between kisses, jingling my keys.

He thrust his hips into mine as he pressed me roughly to the pillar. I was practically fighting his face with my kiss, he grabbed my hips, squeezing tightly as he ground into me, making me moan out a little.

"God," he groaned. "You're so hot," he breathed, practically dragging me towards our cars. He unlocked the doors to the Impala and shoved me into the body of the car, unbuttoning my jeans as he pinned me, my legs wrapping around his waist. I tugged my shirt over my head and he threw the backdoor open and dropped me down on the old leather seats. "Get that bra off," he growled.

I didn't often take orders but I complied with his demand throwing it and my shirt to the floor beside me, letting his mouth explore the swells of my breasts while I frantically worked the buttons on his shirt. He ground his hips into mine and I bucked into him. He propped himself above me as he tugged his shirt off his shoulders. I rubbed myself against his thigh, riding him and getting myself more worked up than I already was. His mouth went back to my breasts, taking a nipple between his teeth and napping down.

"God," I cried out reaching around him and knotting my fingers in his hair.

"I know," he groaned. "God this is so hot, you riding me like this, got you all worked up for me."

Damn he was a good dirty talker. It's like he knew exactly how to unfold me in front of him and took pleasure in doing so. Two could play at that game. I moved my head to kiss along his neck, pulling his head away from my breasts and pushing him upright in the car. I sat on his lap, still dry humping him as I nipped at the flesh of his neck. He tugged open the front of my jeans, button of my jeans already undone, and yanked them down my legs. He tossed them to the floor with the rest of our clothes and quickly worked the buckle on his slacks, them next to go.

"C'mere," he growled as he dropped me back down on my back, flesh touching the cool leather seats.

His hand trailed down my side, light touch setting my skin on fire. He trailed his hand up the inside of my thighs and brought his fingers to my panties, slipping them through my slick folds. Only barrier between his fingers and me being the thin, cheap and lacy fabric.

"Fuck," I swore at the friction.

"Already so wet?" He smirked.

"Less you, more the dream," I commented and he chuckled.

"Who were you dreaming about, hmm?" He teased, rubbing away at my most sensitive area.

"Just fuck me already," I grumbled and he laughed out loud, yanking my panties off my legs.

His briefs were gone and he thrust up into me, making me groan and he let out a hiss as my warm heat accommodated his hardened length. I arched forward and rolled my shoulders back keeping my hips tight with his, not missing a thrust. I rocket with him as all the pent up frustration we had was taken out on each other. Two sweaty bodies clinging to each other in the back seat of Dean's car, leather warmed up and sticking to the skin.

"Fuck," I moaned and Dean tilted his head down to kiss me.

"God," he replied pressed to my lips.

I gripped tight to his shoulders, squeezing the tender flesh beneath the heels of my palms and firm fingers. He held a hand in my hair and pressed the other into the small of my back. I would have dropped my head back if Dean wasn't holding it up for me and it wasn't long before his deep, rhythmic thrusts sent us both spiralling towards shuddering orgasms.

"Son of a bitch," Dean whispered against my lips as we lay back on the leather seat.

"Fuck me," I panted.

"I thought I already did," he chuckled. "What? That wasn't enough for you?"


End file.
